#*jazz hands* here u go

[momotonescreaming]

In the scene where Joyce goes over to Scott Clarke's house, he has what looks like a terrarium in his garage, so @unclewaynemunson and I decided he should have a pet snake. And now I have a small fic for it. Clarkson. (2.5k)

Eddie feels his knees creak as he squats down on the dirty floor of the pet store, holding back a grunt as his body strains with the effort. He sounds like Wayne when he pulls himself out of his armchair — it’s an old thing; the fabric soft and worn, the springs creaky, and the filling so deflated it’s easy to just sink into it. Wayne makes the same grunt when he heaves himself out of it, and hunched over on the floor Eddie feels much the same.

He ignores his body’s aching protests, shifts his weight, and contorts himself to better see the bags of cat food that have been crammed all the way at the back of the shelves. The cheap food is always at the bottom here, hidden and hard to reach so you’re more likely to go for the more expensive stuff at eye level.

There was a small colony of stray cats that hung around Forest Hills, and one had decided to make their home underneath the Munson trailer. He used to feed them bits of his dinner — torn off chunks of meat he’d save on his plate for them — until Wayne told him to quit pissing about and eat his damn dinner already.

He can’t just let the cat starve, and if he keeps saving them bits of his own meals to feed them Wayne will keep bugging him about not finishing his food. He didn’t use to be as bad — not since Eddie was a kid — but after everything, with Eddie’s recovering body, the old man worried.

So Eddie found himself on the floor in the aisles of the pet store, trying to do the mental math on which bag of cat biscuits was the better deal. Comparing overall price versus weight of the bag, counting on his fingers until he thinks he’s figured it out. D&D math was way easier than whatever the fuck this is.

Wayne will forgive him, Eddie thinks. His penchant for taking in strays had to come from somewhere. And with the cat living directly underneath them, they’re like, basically roommates. It would be rude to not feed them. Isn’t that what Wayne’s southern hospitality is all about?

Pulling a bag off of the shelf, Eddie tries to hold back another grunt — debating whether it’s easier to just give up and sit on the floor. They have animals in here, they must keep the floor relatively clean right? He manages to get the bag off of the shelf and resting in his arms with only minimal complaining, wallet chain jingling with every movement.

Standing up, his knees do click, and Eddie shakes his legs out as he leaves the cat food aisle, ignoring the way his Reeboks squeak against the tile floor. He turns the corner and finds himself almost face to face with Mr Clarke. Scott? Eddie’s never sure what to call him these days.

In the comfort of their new trailer he can tease Wayne about his boyfriend Scott, but before all that he was just Eddie’s teacher Mr Clarke. And now he’s in this weird middle zone where he’s not sure how personable he can be with the man. Especially not in public. He’s dating his uncle, but that’s not exactly something people can know. Should he call him Mr Clarke to be safe?

Fuck it, Eddie can probably go a conversation without addressing him by name. Maybe. Probably.

Scott looks up from the piece of paper he was engrossed in with a startled oop noise. His shocked expression quickly melts away as soon as he sees who he’s bumped into.

“Eddie! Funny running into you here.” Scott exclaims, tucking his piece of paper into his pants. He looks down at the bag of cat food Eddie’s clutching in arms and furrows his brows with a confused look. “I didn’t know you and Wayne have pets?”

“We don’t,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I feed stray cats and Wayne grumbles about it.”

Scott startles out a laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides with a smile. “Sounds like Wayne.”

Eddie smiles back. It’s nice, seeing that even the mere mention of his uncle will draw a smile out of Scott. He got to see how happy Wayne was every day — the way he’d smile when he’d pick up the phone and realise it was Scott on the other end, the way he always seemed lighter after one of their dates. It was nice to confirm that on the other end Scott was exactly the same.

“I’m hoping that if I just keep feeding them, Wayne will cave and let me keep one.” Eddie adds, shifting the weight of the bag of cat food in his arms.

“I don’t doubt you’ll be able to manage it,” Scott adds, looking at him a little conspiratorially. It’s a dorky move he know Wayne would smile at. “I won’t tell him your plan.”

“Thanks,” Eddie laughs. “But what are you doing here? I imagine you’re not also feeding a small army of stray cats.”

“No, I’m upgrading to a bigger terrarium,” Scott starts, still smiling. “And wanted to see what we have locally before I make the trip to the bigger store in Indy.”

“Terrarium?” Eddie replies, furrowing his brows. Wayne hadn’t mentioned anything like that. And he’s been over to his house many a time, he must have seen it. “You have a lizard or something?”

“Snake actually,” Scott replied happily.

“A snake?” Eddie blurted out before he could even think about holding the words back and pretend to be normal about this. “Mr Clarke, that’s so fucking metal!”

Scott rubs his hand across the back of his neck, slightly awkward and more than a bit flattered. “Thank you. Wayne tells me that’s quite the compliment coming from you.”

It doesn’t surprise him that his Uncle talks about him to his boyfriend, but it was nice to hear. That Wayne thinks about him when Eddie’s not there, that Wayne wants Scott to know more about how Eddie works. That it’s a compliment if Eddie calls something ‘metal’. Something to bridge the gap between two of his favourite people.

Wayne had sat him down one morning, when Eddie was still pyjama clad and bleary from sleep, and talked about him and Scott. It seemed a little like pulling teeth, that Wayne was forcing the words out of his mouth. But he had done it, the pair of them sitting together at the dining table, coffee clutched in their hands, and Wayne had talked about Scott.

That him and Scott were officially together now, and he cared deeply about the man, but he wanted to remind Eddie that he would always come first. He was his boy, and nothing would ever change that. He was his son and he loved him.

It meant a lot, hearing those words that were previously left unspoken. Eddie knew that Wayne loved him, that he took care of him willingly, but Wayne was never one for words. Eddie was, and he remembers the way his heart clenched when Wayne told him.

But he made sure to remind his Uncle that he was allowed to think about himself. What he wants. And if he wanted Scott Clarke, if he wanted to go out with him then that was okay. Eddie wouldn’t hate Wayne for putting himself first for what seemed to be the first time in his life.

He wasn’t sure if Wayne would listen, but that was okay. Eddie had hugged him over the dining table, feeling the corner of it dig into his side as he clutched at the soft fabric of Wayne’s flannel shirt. His uncles hands were rough and calloused, yet a comforting warmth as they rested on Eddie’s back. Neither of them mentioned the teary eyes.

“You can call me Scott, if you’d like,” Scott says, breaking Eddie out of the trance he found himself slipping into. “Mr Clarke feels a bit formal.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what you— “Eddie starts, before cutting himself off with another shakes of his head. “Never mind. What’s your snakes name?”

“Ada,” Scott replies softly, letting Eddie redirect the conversation. “After Ada Lovelace - the mathematician. A bit nerdy, I know.”

“Nah, I think that’s cool.” Eddie says. “If Wayne ever lets me get a cat I am absolutely naming it after a Lord of the Rings character.”

“Good choice,” Scott laughs. “You’re welcome to come see Ada, if you like.”

“Really?” Eddie asks excitedly, blurting out the words. It wasn’t everyday you got the offer to go see a snake, especially in a town like Hawkins. Eddie always thought snakes and ferrets and lizards and other such exotic pets were more for big city people. Not small town Hawkins. And yet. He felt a bit like a kid again. “Can I?”

“Of course,” Scott replied happily, smiling all the while. “I’d love to show you her. Come over on Wednesday with Wayne.”

Wednesday. Date Night. The one day a week Wayne was guaranteed to trek over to the suburbs to have dinner with Scott. It was slowly becoming a tradition.

Eddie was torn.

On one hand, he really didn’t want to interrupt Wayne’s date night. The man deserves his privacy, his space to love and be loved back. Especially now that the pair were finally on the same page that they were in fact going on dates.

But on the other hand Eddie really wanted to go see the pet snake. It could be nice, to bond with Scott. To spend some time with him and Wayne.

But what if Wayne didn’t want him there? Wanted time alone with just him and Scott. But Scott did invite him personally, so maybe it would be okay? Eddie wasn’t quite sure what his thoughts were doing.

“I’ll ask him,” Eddie eventually says, deciding it’s absolutely not a cop out answer — before excusing himself to go and pay for his cat food.

---

“WAYNE,” Eddie exclaims as he bursts into the trailer. The door slams open, banging against the wall with the force of it. Eddie kicks it shut with another loud bang before continuing, looking over at the armchair his uncle is resting in. “Why didn’t you tell me your boyfriend has a pet snake?”

His Uncle merely raises an eyebrow at him, peering over the top of the newspaper he’d been reading. Wayne is in his comfy home clothes - his worn jeans with the rips at the bottom that he claims are more comfortable than any other pair, the pair of blue fuzzy socks Eddie got him for his last birthday, one of his usual flannels. It’s all very Wayne.

“Well, hello to you too, boy.” Wayne replies, voice steady. He folds up the newspaper — careful to keep his place — and puts it down on the side table next to a steaming mug of coffee. He was using one of his older mugs this time — a chipped white thing that read WORLD’S BEST GRANDMA, another gift Eddie got him years ago.

“Wayne,” Eddie continued, toeing out of his sneakers, still looking over at his uncle on the armchair. “This is very important information I feel I definitely should have been told about.”

He leaves his shoes where they landed after he kicked them off his feet, and shrugs out of his jacket. Wayne continues to watch him, taking a sip of his coffee, and Eddie could see how carefully he was steeling his face as to not smile. “And don’t you dare tell me you didn’t notice the fucking snake tank in the living room, you’ve been over to Scott’s place how many times now?”

“It just didn’t come up,” Wayne eventually said, smiling in that subtle way he did where if you didn’t know him — you could barely tell he was smiling at all. But Eddie knew him, and he could see the sparkle in his eyes, the curl of his lip. Wayne thought this was fucking hilarious. Eddie bit back his own smile as he whirled around.

“Betrayal! From my own Uncle!” Eddie replied, waving his arms around as he talked, playing up the dramatics. It was a bit of normalcy that was easy and familiar to slip into. It was nice. Eddie, being dramatic and making a spectacle of himself — and Wayne, stony faced and entirely too used to it. “I cannot believe you found out your boyfriend has a metal as hell pet, and didn’t tell me.”

“Couldn’t let you start thinkin’ he was cooler than me, now could I,” Wayne joked, watching in amusement as Eddie flopped himself down on the couch.

“He is pretty cool.” Eddie replied, looking over at his Uncle. He sobered slightly, voice quieter and more serious. “He invited me over on Wednesday. To come see.”

“And…” Wayne prompted. The man could always tell when Eddie wasn’t saying something, and he was even better at knowing when to push and when to let it lie. It had taken some time, and a few missteps but they had gotten there. “How you feelin’ ‘bout that?”

“Well I really wanna see a snake,” Eddie starts, voice slow and hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. The threads were starting to come undone, and he picked at it as he talked. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Wayne adds quietly, his voice a comfort. He puts his coffee down, and watches Eddie. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

“But it’s Wednesday.” Eddie adds, with all the emphasis on the word. He throws his hands up in the air as he sinks further into the couch, melting into the cushions. “It’s date night.”

It’s quiet for a bit. The words sitting heavy in the air between them. Wayne takes his time before speaking.

“Me and Scott are dating yes,” Wayne starts, leaning forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees — holding back the same grunt that Eddie did trying to pull  himself up off the floor. He almost smiles at the thought. “And we have dinner on Wednesday’s, yes.” His voice softens, and Eddie can tell that if they were sitting on the same couch right now, Wayne would be giving him a hearty clap on the shoulder. His palm rough and warm. “But that doesn’t mean you’re always excluded, Eddie.”

Eddie shrugs bashfully, and squirms himself into a sitting position. Wayne seeing straight through to the heart of the issue — he was good at that.

“Scott invited you, so that means he wants you there.” Wayne said, looking intently at Eddie, words soft and carefully spoken. Every word chosen with care. “And I always like spending time with you Eddie. You’re my boy.”

Eddie continues to squirm under Wayne’s knowing gaze, picking at the loose threads on his shirt and running his socked feet along the carpet. It all felt a bit silly, all these muddy and tangled emotions sitting thick in his chest. His voice is quiet as he speaks, and he can feel the vulnerability sitting on his tongue. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Wayne replies, picking himself up off the chair with another grunt and sitting down on the couch beside Eddie. He drapes his arm across the back of it, open should Eddie choose to take the unspoken offer. “You’re coming with me on Wednesday, and you’re seeing that damn snake.”

Eddie laughs, and lets himself fall into Wayne’s side, curling himself up like he was a kid again.

[juicedbeetle]

"I'll make you say my name!"

posted with @bikinibottomdayz 's permission

please don't repost outside tumblr

[happi-tree]

another week, another wipweds! this swiftli snippet belongs to the same fic as this one i posted awhile back. no i was not at all emotionally damaged by episode 29 everything is fine and all the teens are pals again what are you talking about 🥲

[capitalst]

[  kiss  ]  sender  kisses lips :> // @dupliciti

THIS IS NO RARE OCCURRENCE for the two of them; with the harbinger using affection as a reward. it's not his fault sampo's smooth talking ways had a way of charming others (including edik if he had to admit) into doing his bidding. although, it doesn't stop him from taking advantage of the talent as a way of getting what he needs without spending his vast amount of weath.

although truth be told, it's all a ruse. an excuse for affection between the two without the need for unnecessary feelings; and he's certain they both know this. it doesn't stop him from asking for more once the initial kiss is over with, " my darling sampo, i think you deserve another for your services. wouldn't you agree? "

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

[kroosluvr]

featherman seeker

as usual da cele notes under cut

had to get some food so thsi si late... i lterally gluedm yself to my chair to finish this LMAOAO

all of the not-dialogue is just straight up lines frm featherman seeker LMAOOO just rearranged

this takes place during 3rd semester (see: infiltration log on wall on 4th page, also their winter clothes strewn around akira's room) after drawing it i was rereading like oh u cld prob see this as like post-third semester but nah i intended it to be such BECAUSE

i rock w the canon that sumire has no clue abt akechi's past and black mask and the mental shutdowns and shido and the engine room she doesnt know hes supposed to be dead, that he sacrificed himself, etc. so ofc shes going thru the game like yayyy featherman yay and her sort of naivete Gets thru to goro. i imagine this is like idk a game he played in childhood bc he was a featherman fan but now revisiting it bc sumire wanted to try it, hes like. damn. this kinda. uh. well thats crazy how things line up. so i think it kinda grates at him but sumi's excitement and like. enjoyment! of it kinda helps him also enjoy it more

SO LIKE He knows he's going to die. He knows thats how grey pigeon's story ends. but he's happy here, and now, with the people he loves, so that makes it All right for now. it's a sad story but it's the good ending.

also i forgor how/where/when goro exactly Actualizes back into existence but can u imagine if he spawned right into the winter wonderland of shibuya square like (head in hands) smth so like. isolating abt it. in a crowd of ppl being excited over christmas and hes like what the hell im supposed to be Dead right now.

also "you are not alone" in the first panels very important..... right under hte panel w goro and sumi side by side :') yea

ryuji and ann holding akira back. YEA.

i really like the 3rd slide. the colors mmmm BUT YEAH so its goro/akira fighting/saving sumire, hanging out at jazz jin, last stand against adam kadmon, then goro holding sumi and akira's hands in the snow, then them smiling :') kinda like a procession of memories, or to-be memories or whatever

ANYWAY this is also like part of my whatever canon divergence where the royal trio section of 3rd sem is just longer for no reason . (aka: the thieves take longer to win over to their side, idk maruki gives u a longer time on the deal, etc etcetc.) just more royal trio time :3

sumibun akimeow and gorodog in 4th img... hidden.... also tennis rackets. ALSO THE LITTLE POLAROIDS Important. and all their clothes! i imagine they stay over at leblanc A Lot. akira prob convinces sojiro to Keep morgana at his house LOL and he handles the business and stuff just so they can have their safe haven while they struggle to try and win the thieves back and infiltrate the palace etc . (I kinda have a comic or something in the works for this)

more abt dialogue choices

"it's tough for a tutorial stage" - this means smth. i didnt think this thru 100% ASKJDHASDKJA but its to do w akechi's life and how everything was so fucking difficult for him as a kid when it shouldnt have been.

"is the second phase giving you trouble" - also smth to do w akechi. (As u can see these are all half baked metaphors) smth to do w his 'second life" aka: third semester being Difficult. because now he has sumire and akira and he doesn't want to leave them, so dying the 2nd time is gonna suck real bad.

i like shuakesumi btw

[justwannabecat]

“Hey Mom, Dad, what would you do if me or Danny comes back as a ghost?”

Maddie looked at Jazz as though she were silly for even asking. “Why, we’d catch you, of course! It’s not like it would actually be you, just a shell.”

Jack frowned. “Even though it’s not really them, I’d still feel bad if we did any of our experiments. We’d probably just exterminate them as quickly as possible so your souls could rest.”

“But we could get so much information from them! Why wouldn’t we? It’s not like they’d feel it!” Maddie shot back. Jazz sighed and walked away as their voices began to rise, indicating a starting argument. She had what she came here for.

And, glancing at the cold spot by her side, so did Danny.

College is fast approaching, and Danny knows that it’s unlikely he’ll be accepted anywhere. Really, that’s fine. It’s just… he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life living in fear of his parents and lying to them. It would even be fine if they restrict his powers as long as they close the portal and stop all the ghost attacks! He just doesn’t want to be scared!

So Team Phantom comes up with an idea. Jazz will ask what will happen to them if they become ghosts. And Jack and Maddie both agree that, at the very least, they should be caught and Ended. There is no chance for a safe reveal. No hope that he could ever stay.

So he leaves. Jazz switches to Gotham U without telling her parents, and Sam and Tucker both agreed that they wouldn’t go to Gotham for college to throw off any leads the Fentons might have.

They destroyed the portal before they left. A very, VERY thick layer of ghost ice managed to contain most of the damage. They leave behind two prerecorded tapes, one where Danny knows they’re recording a message and one where Jazz quietly threatens the Fentons to leave them alone. She says that she would sooner kill them before she lets them lay a hand on Danny, who by the way, still feels emotions and pain, and your stupid confirmation bias is preventing you from making any real progress in your career.

(That’s all I have so far but I couldn’t stop thinking about it lol)

[naturesapphic]

Yk « l’amour de ma vie » by billie can u write a fanfic abt French yn flirting with Billie in French and that’s why the tittle of her song is l’amour de ma vie (bc yn always call billie that and her heart melts every time cuz she finds that really cute) and one of un interviewing billie in French (like the Lena situation interview but in French)

French Interview

Billie eilish x French!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, cussing

Word count: 2,181 😭

A/n: I’m sorry if the translation got some of the words wrong I apologize I tried-

“Hey guys! Today vogue invited me over to interview a very special someone. Billie eilish aka my girlfriend!” I exclaimed as I did jazz hands over to my girlfriend Billie, who sat beside me. She looked over at me and giggled at my goofy jazz hands and face I was doing. “Hiiii everybody. I’m so glad to be back here.” Billie said softly as she waves to everyone and to the cameras.

You smiled big and explained to everyone that you will now be talking in French for most of the interview. “Alors Billie Eilish se blesse parfois ? Que diable?” (So Billie eilish does get hurt sometimes. What the hell?). Billie giggles and gives you a smile as she answers. “Right? It’s interesting to be a person who isn’t an outwardly sensitive complainer. A lot of moments on this album are about situations where I was like, ““I’d rather be tortured inside but have somebody think that I’m cool, than have somebody think that I’m hysterical and actually express my feelings.”” So many songs on this album reflect that realization of, like, “Maybe I’m obsessed with the idea of nonchalance.”” She says and you nod.

“oh ouais, c'est toi, c'est sûr bébé.” (Oh yeah, that’s you for sure baby.). You reply and Billie keeps going on with her answer. “I would rather suffer in silence than tell you something’s bothering me and have you think I’m sensitive.” She says and you roll your eyes playfully. “tu me rappelles un de mes ex-partenaire.” You said while eyeing her down. As soon as the translator translate what you said to her, she gives you a gentle shove that makes you laugh. “Quand nous nous sommes rencontrés pour la première fois, tu avais l'air d'avoir tout compris et tu étais plutôt fermé.” (when we first met, you seemed like you had it all together and kinda closed off).

Billie laughs and grabs one of your hands in hers as she answers. “I come off as a person that doesn’t care. I care about people and I have love and passion, but in relationships, I found myself never ever expressing any of my needs. It was interesting to notice I was doing that, and that’s what these lyrics are about. It’s almost like I resent myself for not advocating for myself, because maybe if I had, things would’ve changed. But I’ve always had an issue with weakness.” She said opening up more and more. “Well I’m glad you are getting better with expressing your needs towards me because you mean a lot to me bils.” You say as you look deep into her eyes. She smiles and waits for your next question.

“En pensant à “Skinny” qui entre dans “Lunch”, cela résume parfaitement l’ambiance du titre, car c’est un peu comme les refroidir puis les réchauffer.” (Thinking about “Skinny” going into “Lunch,” that sums up the vibe of the title perfectly, because it’s kind of like, cool them down and then heat them up.) “That was very purposeful. It’s hard and soft and hard and soft. There’s motifs and melodies that repeat and lyrics that call back to other songs. The songs morph into each other. It was purposeful to have “Skinny” do what it does, and then at the end you hear the drums for “Lunch.” And then “Lunch” comes in and slaps you in the face.” Billie replies and you nod along to her words.

“Vous vous demandez ce que les gens vont dire de la chanson “Lunch”?” (Are you wondering what people are going to say about the song “Lunch”?). “I’m pretty aware of what people will say. It’s so weird to grow up and change in front of the world. The craziest part is discovering things about myself and then suddenly, everyone else knows, and I don’t even have a second to think about how it makes me feel.” She confessed and you felt your heart break for her. “I can’t imagine what that must have felt like.” You say as you start rubbing her knuckles. “It was very frustrating but I wouldn’t have done it without you y/n so thank you love.” Billie said giving you a small but loving smile.

“Je me demandais, quand une de vos relations amoureuses se termine, pensez-vous la laisser avec mille questions ? Ou vous laissent-ils avec mille questions ? Ou est-ce partagé 50-50 ? Est-il plus dangereux de tomber amoureux de vous ? Ou est-il plus dangereux pour vous de tomber amoureux?” (I was wondering, when one of your romantic relationships ends, do you think you leave them with a thousand questions? Or do they leave you with a thousand questions? Or is it split 50-50? Is it more dangerous to fall in love with you? Or is it more dangerous for you to fall in love?) “I don’t even know. I think 50-50 is probably accurate. I literally hate who I am so much when I’m in love.” Billie replied and you let out a loud laugh that made her giggle at you.

“That’s one of the most masculine things you’ve said. Jeez Billie.” You giggle out and she smiles. “But don’t worry baby I love how I am when I’m in love with you.” She confessed and you felt your whole face heat up. “je t'aime, l'amour de ma vie.” (I love you, the love of my life). Billies face heat up and she leans over to give you a little kiss on your cheek. “I love you more angel.” She said. She didn’t even need the translator to tell her what you said because you always say I love you and that pet name to her in French. That’s why she named the song after that petname because she loves when you call her that a lot and it means a lot to her. Billie goes back on track and continues to answer your last question.

“I have a power issue and a control issue, and I also don’t like being vulnerable in a romantic way. It makes me feel uncomfortable, and I don’t know how many times I’ve really been in love. I think there’s different versions of love, and I think that you can be in love and it might not be deep. I’m not going to get too in detail, because I’m going to be rude, but I’ve never been dumped, and also, I’ve never been broken up with. I’ve only done the breaking up.” She confessed and you nod. “Yeah I’ve only done that a few times but I’ve mostly gotten broken up with.” You say and Billie nods. I think when people hear that, they’re like, “Oh, all you do is break hearts.” Sure, but that doesn’t mean that people are totally innocent. It means that I was like, “Oh, let me get the fuck out of here.” Or it means things just weren’t right.” Billie continued on.

“Now some of y’all about to be real mad at me, but I do believe that breaking up with someone versus being broken up with, obviously being broken up with hurts like hell, especially when you don’t see it coming and you wanted a future and it’s taken out of your hands. But honestly, the pain of knowing that you have to end something with somebody that you genuinely love is so horrible.” She confessed and you cocked your head to the side. “Really? I’m not sure if I completely agree but I will agree with how it does stay with you longer if you break up with somebody.” You say and Billie adds on. “I think so, too. And you don’t get to even have the, like, “I got dumped, so fuck you guys. I get to go crazy and have a reaction and be mad at you. And I get to make you into an enemy, because you broke up with me.” You can’t do that. You can’t become a victim.” She points out and you give a surprised look on your face.

“That’s actually very true. You don’t get to feel mad and shit. Wow I never thought of it like that.” You explained and Billie smiles. “Pour changer un peu de sujet, ce que vous dites me fait revenir sur vos premières musiques. Votre approche d’écriture n’est pas comme si elle se prêtait à l’hésitation. Il ne s’agit même pas de peindre quelque chose de sombre sur le plan sonore, mais c’est un peu bleu. En fait, tu utilises beaucoup le mot « bleu » dans cet album”. (To change the topic a bit, what you are saying is giving me flashbacks to your early music. Your writing approach is, it’s not like it lends itself to hesitancy. It’s not even painting something dark sonically, but it’s a little bit blue. You actually use the word “blue” a lot in this album).

“I love that you just pointed that out, and it’s making me think about how I don’t love to point fingers. Sometimes you want to, because you’re mad and you want people to feel for you and you want to feel seen. But I’m not going, “You did this to me.” It’s more, like, “We’re all allowed to feel however we feel based on whatever happened.” Also, it’s not about pointing my finger and blaming people: “And everybody, attack this person, because they hurt me.” It’s like, “I hurt me. And I have hurt me multiple times, and I allow other people to get to that point.” And that’s where I’m trying to draw the boundaries and protect my shadow.” Billie added on and you watched her in awe as she explains how she feels. “Comme il se doit. Et c’est parce que vous n’avez pas pointé du doigt que les gens vont se poser mille questions. Pour revenir au fait d'être toujours amoureux, les seules choses qui sont réelles sont les sentiments.” (As you should. And it’s because you didn’t point fingers that people will have a thousand questions. To go back to ever being in love, the only things that are real are feelings).

“I just had an experience the other day. I had some people over, and there was something happening that involved a lot of sensation and feeling and being in your body. And the person who is guiding me through this thing, I won’t even get into it, because it’s irrelevant to what I’m saying, there was this moment where they were talking about communication and saying, “Just remember to be aware of how you feel.” And I remember saying, “Oh, well, this is making me think of this, and I am feeling this.” I kept describing things. And he said to me, “I appreciate your psychoanalysis of what you’re feeling, but I don’t need you to analyze it. I just need you to feel it.” And that got to me. It made me think. It made me feel.” She explained and you felt your eyes tear up at her words. “I love that. It’s really the scariest thing of all. But for overthinkers, it can be a good practice to just feel and then move by those emotions. So yeah, we don’t need to end with a question, because I think the gift of being with you, whether you’re present or nonchalant or considering whether you’re being nonchalant in this moment, is that your instant impact on a room, even if you don’t say anything, makes people feel a lot. Even my band told me that. When you walked out, they were like, “Damn, she’s good. She makes you feel a lot.” And I was like, “Try sitting next to her when she’s looking into your eyes. It’s crazy.”” You say and Billie looks deep in your eyes as you talk.

“Eh bien, je n’ai plus de questions aujourd’hui mais l’amour de ma vie, j’adore ton album et toutes les chansons qu’il contient. Je suis incroyablement fier de toi et merci de m'avoir permis de t'aimer. Au revoir tout le monde ! Le flux m'a frappé fort et doucement!” (Well I don’t have any more questions today but the love of my life, I absolutely love your album and all of the songs on it. I’m so incredibly proud of you and thank you for letting me love you. Goodbye everyone! Stream hit me hard and soft). You waved bye to everyone and Billie was blowing kisses to the camera and the interview was done. Billie and you went back to y’all’s house and spent the rest of the day there in each others arms.

A/n: holy shit that was a lot. Over two thousand words omg. PLEASE REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE, SHARE, ANYTHING PLEASE LMAO thank you anon for the request, I hope you love it and I hope the rest of y’all do too. Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[amourcheol]

paris (teaser)

❝You and Jeonghan, jazz-filled corners, hidden history, and the city of love.❞

historical! au | exes to lovers! au | angst, fluff, smut | approx. 45k words (teaser wc. 1.4k words)

s u m m a r y : disgraced by hollywood for the last time, you, a once superstar-turned-alcoholic, escape to the city of love to seek sanctuary from the ruthless tabloids. your sanctuary comes in the form of film noir superstar yoon jeonghan, the enigmatic man who taught you the art of acting, lust and love before your fame. when he asks to meet you once, just like old times, you cannot refuse. what is meant to be a simple date turns into a path of passion, pain and everything that comes with fooling around with your ex in the jazz-filled corners of paris.

c o n t e n t s : actor! mc, actor! jeonghan, mc is incredibly bitter and makes bad decisions, agent! seungkwan who is tired of fixing them, jeonghan is the suavest, sultriest mf, mentions of parisian landmarks in this fic, also a bit of french peppered throughout, greek mythology art references, tons of fluff which is also layered with angst, this will be very hurt-comfort, hella ansgty but will have a happy ending mature warnings -> alcohol consumption and abuse, smoking, this is basically sexual tension with plot, slightly drunk making out, oral sex (f. receiving) unprotected sex (refer point to bad decisions), very soft angsty sex, body worshipping, petnames (chérie, mon ange, darling, angel), overall emotional rollercoaster, more tba!

p l a y l i s t : here!

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld​ @sysymei @alaypsy23 @belladaises @jjeongddol @sparklyshuji @forcoups @ilovesungjun @wonwoo24 @scandal-in-bohemia @hopefulchick @superbbananananana @onedumbho3 @fragmentof-indifference @cuntycheol @rubywonu @if-i-like-i-reblog @yoonzinoooo @jungwoos-luvr @crookedwolfruins @leclercloverbot​ @alexai (let me know if y’all want to be tagged!)

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : after three years ... four rewritings later... she may finally see the light ... i am releasing the teaser now but will post the fic when i’m back from holiday! i hope you all enjoy the lil extract <3

read this fic here!

SHIT. YOU COULD NOT DO THIS TODAY.

Suddenly, you wished he was a mere figment of your imagination, because then he would not have to see you in your drunken, disordered state, looking for art that was not there, looking for the past in the present.

But then he began to move.

This very real presence walked closer to you, and you felt your entire body constricting, because Yoon Jeonghan was in front of you, the greatest star in the world was approaching you, the man of your distant memories was coming too close.

“Wait,” he then said, and your throat was closing up, you were blinking rapidly, chest growing heavy, and you needed him to get away. He came closer, and you knew then and there you were going to die on the cold floor of the Louvre, marble eyes on you—

And then your own gaze was glistening, and when he noticed it became harder to contain yourself. “_____, are you all right?”

“Yes!” you got out, but then you proved yourself wrong when a few tears slipped out, staining your cheeks.

The man wasted no time, closing the last space between the two of you as he reached out. Instantly, you repelled from his touch, almost flinching from his surprise. “No!” you rasped out, bringing out your own hands to create distance, taking a step back. “No, you don’t need to do that…I’m fine.” 

You breathed sharply through your nose. “I am fine.”

Hastily you turned to the empty space where he last was, before you followed him like a madwoman around the hall. He watched you, your back almost to him. “What…what are you…” you paused, trying to normalise your shaking voice. “What are you doing here?”

You could feel his inquisitive stare upon you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

That question was not being answered. “I asked you first.”

Because you could not see him, you were not aware of his reaction. Still, it was enough for him to answer, “Well, in the Louvre, or in Paris?”

You gritted your teeth at that. “I think everyone knows why you’re in Paris at the moment.”

“Do they, now?”

You could not help it.

Casting a momentary glance at him, you were taken aback to find his gaze upon you. “Are you aware, at least?” he asked you.

Despite his simple questions, your impending headache, you had to clamp down on your remarks. “Of course I’m aware,” you muttered. “The papers are all over the press tours you’ve been doing.”

A perfectly groomed brow arched at your comment. “I’m surprised you follow the papers at the moment.” 

You knew exactly what he meant. “One must keep check of the stories they gossip about,” you only said, focusing back on the empty space. “Those journalists cannot be trusted.”

“Hmm…” you heard shuffling amongst his clothes—no doubt crossing his arms. “I have read the stories.”

A scoff. “I suppose you believe them, don’t you?”

He noted the cruelty in your response. The actor did not take it to heart.

“I have always believed in the stories you told me, chérie.”

This time, curiosity controlled your movement.

Curiosity had you turning back, forcing you to observe his expression, catch his lie. 

But you found no deception.

No, there was only sincerity—pure as the moonlight shining on the two of you.

Chérie.

The last time someone had called you such a sweet name was too long ago.

How ironic, that it was the same man beside you who had bestowed you this very endearment.

A shuddered breath left you. 

You could not do this now.

You were going to say as much when Jeonghan interrupted you.

“Were you looking for something in here?”

Your furrowed brows had him humming. “I thought as much.” Gently, he jerked his head beyond your figure. “Strangely enough, I was looking for it as well.”

Confused, you glanced back at the empty space, where that certain, mysterious sculpture was supposed to be. “That is why I came to the Louvre,” you heard him say.

There was still suspicion laced in your features. “How do you know that we are thinking of the same piece?”

That ghost of a smile crept up again. “You act as if you don’t remember.”

Your sigh was a little sheepish. “I do,” you said, reminiscing on the memories. “But the name…”

No matter how hard you endeavoured, your memory of the sculpture was too hazy for your half-drunk mind. 

You searched him for an answer. “I’m sure you have not forgotten.”

“No…I have not.”

You waited. His silence had you insisting, “Well?”

When you saw a slight glimmer in his whimsical gaze, you knew that he had something else in mind. The implications had you biting your lower lip, anxiety blooming.

The nerves grew when Jeonghan spoke.

“I will tell you if you see me tomorrow.”

You blinked back.

“There’s an exhibition opening here tomorrow afternoon,” he continued, taking a step towards you, careful not to startle you again. “It’s centred on the sculpture we both wanted to see, but it’s been moved to another hall.”

He confused you a great amount. “How do you know that?”

His stare went beyond you, to the wall. “It says on the plaque.”

Sure enough—when you looked back, there was the notice. Because your French was adequate at best, you did not understand it fully. You simply had to trust his linguistic abilities.

That you could do—you were aware of Jeonghan’s fluency in the language of love. 

He cocked his head, a few strays cascading the side of his face. “You and I could see it there.”

The offer had shaken you. “Why?”

“Why?”

You knitted your brows suspiciously. “Why do you want to go with me?”

The film noir star watched you then, you shuffling uncomfortably under his scrutiny. God, you forgot how intense his eyes were—in fairness, you had not been the subject of his stares for a few years. 

He locked his gloved hands behind his back. “Because you need a break, _____. From everything.”

He offered you a smile. “Let me be the one to give you that. If only for the day.”

You could have crumbled before him.

It was at this stage you cursed yourself for being in such a state. Perhaps if you were sober, you would have carried on this conversation in a more respectable manner, taken more caution.

It was incredibly difficult, composing yourself around the man.

“I can’t…” you inhaled sharply, trying to form the words. “I cannot do midday…too many people, you know…staring, judging…”

“Ah.” He nodded, parting his mouth in thought. “Then tomorrow night?”

Stretching your mouth, unsure, he assured, “They will not follow you here at this hour.”

“How are you so sure of that?”

This time, he sighed, surprised at your anxiousness. “I see you’ve not changed, then.”

You narrowed your gaze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

But the actor did not seem like he was going to elaborate. 

He instead took another step towards you, a mere two feet left. 

“Do you trust me?”

You tilted your head back. 

What kind of question was that?

Do you trust me?

You did not trust anyone. Not after this whole debacle back home, when almost all your friends within the industry had contributed to your downfall. Hollywood was filled with traitors, the worst being the people who haunted the journey of your disgrace at every moment.

It was impossible to place any ounce of faith in another.

As you watched his eyes settle on you, you noticed an emotion you had not witnessed in forever.

Tenderness.

Tenderness with no ulterior motive—gentle acceptance, as if he recognised your position. As if he recognised your change, the apprehensive nature of your questions, your pauses. It physically hurt being stained with such compassion, when you had been begging for it from the world all those weeks ago.

It hurt, having someone who understood you.

You, however, should not have been surprised.

Yoon Jeonghan had always been like this. Especially when you both were together.

You could have smiled. 

What a time that was.

As if he could read your mind, the film noir star began, “You remember, don’t you? That I’ve never let you down?”

You decided to let yourself slip—you could always blame it on the alcohol. 

“What time do you want me here tomorrow?”

[feasibilities]

Sight and Smell - Tom x Married!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: Tom has feelings for you and won't let anyone stop him from telling you how he feels. Warnings: Drug Use, Infidelity, Allusions to Cuckolding, Sex as Punishment, Choking, Pining, etc. Author's Note: Readers need love too! I did some research on luxury hotels in Dublin as well (because I want a late-night rendezvous with Cillian in one of them). Also, thank you @mothhball for tagging me in the prompt that spawned this insane story. I hope you enjoy it!

The sight of your beautiful smile and the smell of your redolent perfume were mainstays of Tom’s psyche. He knew your husband, Seán, since they were kids. You came along during secondary school. He knew it was wrong to lust for any woman who wasn’t Marianne, but you were different. For the first time, he felt a deep-seated jealousy toward his friend. Knocking on the front door, Tom was finally prepared to tell you how he really felt. This party would go down in history. 

“Hey, Tom. Seán will be here soon. Won’t you come in?” You smiled sweetly. You noticed that he looked disheveled and restless. 

“Of course.” Tom replied. While you led him to the kitchen, he admired how your black dress hugged your figure. He hated that Seán got to see the treasures that lie underneath. 

“Where’s Marianne?” You inquired, going back to cleaning the champagne flutes. 

“U-um, she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed back.” Tom faltered, taking quick peeks at your cleavage. 

“Ah. Well, I hope she feels better soon. How have you been?” You asked.

“Fine.” Tom answered plainly

Walking toward him, you placed the back of your hand on his forehead. 

“Are you feeling okay, hun?” You asked innocently. 

Taking your hand away, Tom hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. You heard him lock it shut shortly after. You stood there stunned before continuing to prepare for the party. 

After separating the thin white powder into lines, he gummed what was left over on his fingers. Snorting each line was like a hard reset for his body. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest. Collapsing near the bathroom sink, he trembled and cursed himself. He sat himself up in a corner and breathed deeply. The palpitations of his heart subsided. 

Hearing offbeat jazz come from the living area, Tom jumped up and gathered himself. He had to get this out of his system before guests arrived. It was now or never. 

“I need to talk to you.” Tom blurted out, watching you arrange hors d'oeuvres on multiple platters. 

“Fucking hell, Tom. You scared me half to death.” You jumped. 

“Listen, it’s very important-“ Tom started.

“Can it wait until after the party, hun?” You corrected.

“It can’t.” Tom said, growing irritated by the second. 

“Fine. What is it?” You said, exasperated. 

“I have loved you since I met you all those years ago. I think about you all the time. I hate that Seán got to you first.” Tom confessed, staring into your eyes. 

You stayed silent and stared back at him. You felt a mix of panic and curiosity. Seán would kill Tom with his bare hands if he heard this conversation. Tom’s advances made sense—especially since you felt the same way. You loved your husband with all of your heart, but you can’t say you never thought about leaving. He was away for work way too much. When he was here, he wasn’t present emotionally. Intimacy was poorer than it had ever been. You yearned for something different—rather, something electrifying. Tom was the closest you could get.

“We can’t do it here, Tom. I can meet you in a hotel after the party. Now, take these platters into the dining room. Be careful to not let anything fall.” You ordered. 

Tom’s eyes widened at your proposal. You’ve never seen him move so fast in the time that you knew him. Guests, including Seán, began to arrive. He kissed you deeply and gave you an embarrassingly hard smack on your ass. It felt like he was putting on the show of a happy couple in front of everyone. Tom was left to brood angrily as you gave him sympathetic glances throughout the party. Shortly after everyone’s departure, you got a text from Tom about your impending rendezvous.

Room 427 at The Westbury. Hope you’re still up for the challenge. 

“Challenge?” You murmured as you applied your makeup at your vanity.

“Where are you headed, love?” Seàn slurred, toying with your hair. He was too drunk to notice you flipping your phone over. 

“Out with friends. I’ll be back late.” You replied. 

“You know, I want to spend more time with you. I miss you.” He said, kissing your shoulder and starting to untie your house robe. This was another empty promise. You politely moved his hands and went back to finishing your makeup. 

“We can spend time together when I get back, Seán. I need some time to myself, ’s all.” You said. Finally getting the message, he stumbled to the bed and fell asleep.

— 

“Fuck, right there…” You moaned as Tom thrusted into you at steady pace. You raked your nails down his back—marking your territory for the time being. He stared down at you with the same admiration earlier. He loved the way your breasts moved with each thrust. He loved the resplendent noises you made when he bottomed out. You clenched around him as your legs began to shake.  Your eyes fluttered shut before you felt his hand grab your throat. He squeezed enough to limit your blood flow. You were lightheaded, but still conscious.

“Open your fucking eyes. This is what you wanted, right?” Tom hissed, speeding up his movements. This time was much more brutal.

“Yes.” You whimpered, feeling like you were about to break in half. 

Tom kissed you harshly and watched as you fell apart. Unintelligible praises came from you as he pounded you into the plush mattress. Your walls spasmed frenetically as you came. He wanted to make sure that you thought of him every time you fucked Seán. To his own perverse wish, this was payback for not choosing the better man.  Flipping you on your stomach, Tom yanked your hips backward and started taking you from behind. He put a pillow underneath you to soften the blows, but to no avail. He was reaching depths that your husband dreamed of. You weeped quietly and 

“Would be fucking sick if Seán came in and saw me nailing his wife, eh?” Tom teased, panting in your ear. A cruel part of you got off on the thought of him listening in on you two. Maybe he would give you the attention you deserve. A faint “Mhmm” emitted from you in response. 

“Cum inside me.” You cooed, looking back at him with heavy eyes. You bit your lip and clenched around him once more. His thrusts staggered as he came with a loud groan. You sung his praises as he came down from his high. Pulling out, he saw his seed beginning to spill out of you. He caught some with his fingers and pushed it back inside.  He pumped himself mindlessly before laying next to you. His stark blue eyes studied your features. He traced his fingertips along your back. You looked back at him lovingly before drifting off to sleep. 

Grabbing your lace underwear from the floor, Tom huffed them desperately. Similar to cocaine, he felt a sense of euphoria. He took in the sweet, earthy scent as he grew hard again. He didn't want to disturb you, so he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He finally got what he wanted. 

[okchijt]

hii! could u separate headcanons of Yandere! Alastor and Vox x Male Overlord! Reader who never smiles (very rarely) , isn't very chatty and doesn't really like dance and sing?

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! Decided to write this as soon as it came cause I finished the show a few weeks ago and still have the brainrot. The request asks for a male reader and the title also says it, but you can easily read it as gender-neutral as well since I don't think that what I write is that gender-specific to the request to matter aside from like two gender-specific words I use but you can easily ignore them if you want. And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy!🩷

Yandere Alastor x Male Overlord Reader Headcanons

📻 Smilling is Alastor's whole thing, and even though he doesn't care if others smile or not, but as his Darling, he seems to care quite a lot! He's not that vocal about it though, only making a slight comment here and there: "You're never fully dressed without a smile!" or "A smile makes all the difference!" All to try and make you smile more. I imagine he says the same speech he did to Charlie, that a smile can be anything you want it to be and the effect it has on others.

📻 When all else fails he'd use his wits and puns to get a smile out of you, and when you finally do smile on occasion Alastor is over the moon. It's a huge success in his book, he'd immediately praise how lovely that smile looks on your face and he'd pat your head or back approvingly as well.

📻 Since you're on Overlord yourself Alastor feels nothing but respect for you. If you were a simple sinner he'd feel superior despite you being his Darling. But in this case, you're on the same level if not stronger than him so that just gives him more of a reason to make you smile, anything to get your approval, it's the only one he needs or cares for anyway. In this case, you letting him stay by your side only fuels his ego because it's a pleasure only he gets to have and no one else. You're his and he has no intentions of sharing you with anyone, he's fiercely protective and possessive over you and that includes your smile. Only he gets to see and experience your purest form, sinners would rather make a deal than die by his hand just because they saw something they shouldn't.

📻 Alastor is more than fine with having a non-chatty Darling, he doesn't speak unless he has to so he can relate to you. That said, he's only okay with it when you're quiet to everyone else but him. After all, he's only this close to you so shouldn't he earn the pleasure of hearing your voice? He'd push you for a conversation sometimes, asking you questions or just string up a conversation to the point where you're forced to respond. The longer you keep quiet the more irritated and persistent he'll become, so it's better to start sooner or later if you don't want to see Alastor slowly lose himself.

📻 Although there's no official answer to whether Alastor likes to sing or dance, I have my personal thoughts on that so I'll use them here. I think Alastor likes dancing, with a specific person that is, that being you. You won't catch him on the dancefloor with anyone but you. Though because you ain't that much of a dancer, and unlike the smile thing Alastor doesn't really mind. He is forceful with everyone else as we saw in the show, but as his Darling and fellow Overlord, he has too much respect for you to push you to do something against your will. Though if you would ever agree to dance with him, he'd be really respectful and make sure you enjoy yourself so that he'll have a chance at another dance next time. Also, you always only dance to jazz or swing music, that's one thing Alastor will always put his foot down on.

📻 Singing is the second thing Alastor would take the most seriously after smiling when it comes to his Darling. Singing is one of those things that lets you express yourself, you can show any emotion by it. Even though Alastor had like four songs in the show, I feel like he only sings when he has to, always to make himself look good or to be on the winning side. So I feel like Alastor would be a little disappointed if you chose to solve problems like a normal person instead of having a rap battle with someone. Though I feel like that's a subject he won't push on about too much despite his feelings, he'll only allude to it from time to time.

📻 Overall, the only issue Alastor would have with a Darling like that is him not smiling, but that's about it. It's the only thing he'd be aggressively vocal about and sometimes the singing one. Otherwise, he tolerates everything else about you. All Alastor needs is to have you all to himself and if it means he's the only one to witness you do any of those stuff in private, how can he complain? He much rather prefers that scenario anyway, you're his after all.

Yandere Vox x Male Overlord Reader Headcanons

📺 Unlike Alastor, Vox doesn't put that much importance on smiling like his rival, but he still views it as useful. He's a public-based Overlord, so a smile is always important to have when trying to sell his brand. You can be a part of the Vee's or not, you're still an Overlord that is either on his level or stronger, so Vox is bewildered how you don't even try to smile when talking to those below you to win them over.

📺 He'd try to explain to you how much more influence and power you could have with a smile alone: "Smile, and they'll know who's in charge here!'' or ''It's the best way to win the public's adoration!'' He just wants you to present yourself the same way he does. He'd be really disappointed if you continued to refuse his idea, but once you smiled at something he said in private, it made him stop and think. It made him realize that something so alluring should be for his eyes only, he should be the only one to enjoy such a sight and no one else. He'd always whisper sweet nothing into your ear whenever he catches you smiling, hoping it'll encourage you to smile more. It fuels him and he'd do anything to get you to smile like that again for him.

📺 As a fellow Overlord, he respects you a ton, especially if you're a part of the Vee's with him. Because you're so different from the typical Overlord he surrounds himself with, he's much more wary of how he approaches you in fear of setting you off. He wants you to adore him the same way he does you and he'll try to achieve that by treating you like the King you are. Anything you say goes and even when he tries to push some issues forward, as his Darling you're the only one that can shut him down.

📺 Though Vox would prefer if you were a bit more chatty for the sake of the brand and all that, he won't really say anything to you about it. Your presence is enough to either win other sinners over or scare all the threats away. Kinda like Alastor, in private Vox will be very chatty with you, you're his Darling so he only feels safe enough with you to spill all of his thoughts out. But unlike his rival, Vox won't push or force you to respond, he's more than okay with you just being silent as he talks, it's therapeutic in a way. Though he'd always encourage you to talk some more if you do eventually say something, your voice just makes him so happy. He'll stop whatever he was doing just to focus all of his attention on you as you talk, but if you stop that's okay, he's already satisfied to hear his Darling talk even if just a little.

📺 Vox ain't that much of a dancer, he's pretty stiff actually, so he's both glad and bothered by the fact that you aren't. Good for him cause you don't pressure or force him to do something he knows he's bad at and embarrass himself in front of you, unlike a certain moth. But at the same time, he'd want to see you dance, he wouldn't care how good you would be at it, you're his Darling so he'd still think you're brilliant regardless! He won't ever push you to do it though, taking how he feels about it he won't force you into something he knows he wouldn't like doing himself.

📺 Singing is what Vox makes up for not being able to dance, he's a good singer and he knows it, though you're the only one who he'd sing to willingly. He'll sing to you in private all the time, wanting to charm you and make you weak for him just like how weak he is for you. But it's the same thing as with dancing, he would love to hear you sing for him, about anything really, but again, he won't force you to do it. Sometimes he'd sing a song that requires a duet to see if you'll budge. Unfortunately for him, you don't, but he won't say anything, he adores you regardless.

📺 Seems like Vox shares a similar issue with his rival, his one problem is you not wanting to smile more. Outside of that he sometimes gently tries to persuade you into singing or smiling for him, but won't push the issue onward if he faces rejection for his request. Vox is more than satisfied knowing you'd sometimes budge in private for him, that's all he really needs and craves really. Him being the only one to witness his Darling doing any of those things makes his ego only grow, because it's his privilege alone and no one else's. And it'll stay that way no matter what.

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 1: Heading out with a Heavy Heart.

Aftermath of the Prolouge

"Da.....nny.... Danny..."

"Jazz?" Danny whips his head at the female voice behind him

"Da... nny....." She mutters again with a soft smile on her voice.

"Jazz!" He cried out and hugged her tightly, tears trailing down his cheeks.

"Danny.... wake up..." She mutters with a concerned tone. Danny tilts his head on confusion

"W-What do you mean?" He asks, his face scrunching up in concern.

"Danny wake up." She says in a louder tone, the surroundings suddenly started to crack and shatter, eventually crumbling like glass.

"DANNY WAKE UP!" A male voice yelled out shaking him awake.

Danny was breathing heavily in a fast pace as his eyes darted around him eventually landing on the person who woke him up.

"Hah... Fruit loops.." he Sighed out slowly calming his chest down. He can't help but notice his hand trembling. "Damn..." He blurts out.

"Are you okay?.." Dani or well.. Ellie asked him with a concerned worried face. Vlad lifts her up on the bed so she could hug Danny. "Yeah Ells... I'm fine... I'm.... I'm fine-" he tries to come up with an excuse.

"You're not fine Daniel." Vlad speaks up, his eyes squinting although it may look like he's glaring at Danny but Danny knows he's very worried, concerned. He still finds Vlad's or Plasmius's Change of Attitude and Personality towards him odd, but then again he was the first person Danny broke down Infront of after Jazz's death so he suppose it's to be expected.

Dani jumped up at him with her hands high up, Danny nods and carries her in his arms and They Pressed foreheads with each other.

They headed downstairs to the living room and Danny puts down Ellie so she can sit on the couch.

Danny remembers now why he's with Vlad in the first place.... So he can be far away, away from this place that he used to call his haunt... His home.

Danny sits down ready to discuss his plan. He needed to run.

"Help me Vlad..." He pleaded softly.

Vlad's Gaze softened but got even more worried, he lets out a sigh and pulled out his wallet.

"You. And Dante over here are going to Gotham."

He finally says, Dante almost spit out his Early Morning Beer hearing his name and hearing himself being included in this so called runaway.

"Why the fuck me?" He choked out confused as he stared at Vlad.

Vlad frowned and scoffed "it's because you're a somewhat responsible adult, I can't legally adopt Daniel over here for obvious reasons" Vlad glances at Danny and He just fakes a gag motion.

"Fair enough" Dan simply accepted his fate and shrugged it off, Danny thought to himself that Dan's Therapy Sessions surely must be working so well for him to behave like this.

"You two also looks the closest as... Well... Family. You do not need to worry about money or everything else I will cover it. Even if it means Betraying... Betraying... Maddie......" He hesitates for a moment before pulling out his Black Card and hands it to Dante.

"Sweet." Dante smirks widely and chuckling to himself.

"Do not max it out for the love of god." Vlad whips his head to glare at Dante.

"I'm not promising anything, but fine. I'll take care of the little twerp here. No need to worry." He widens his grin and ruffles Danny's Hair.

Danny doesn't remember how he and Dante got along but, it's... It's very comforting to say the least.

"I'll enroll you into Gotham U, under MY name. You will be reffered to as Daniel James Masters. And You, Dan. Will be Dante Jamie Masters." Vlad hands out the 'fake' or forged files and Dante hides them in his chest whilst nodding.

"Just lay Low. Okay?" Vlad gripped Danny's palm, Danny stared for a brief moment before nodding subtly.

This was it.

He was leaving his haunt.

Although it'll take time to adjust to the new surroundings he needs to do this. He has to do this nontheless. He was just thankful he has people who are there by his side... Even if she left an unfulfilled hole in his heart.

He was relieved to say the least, relieved to say he can finally leave. That he can finally gain the independence Jazz would've wanted him to have, the freedom she couldn't provide herself out of fear of leaving him with their parents..

"Danny." Dante clicked his fingers trying to get Danny's attention.

"Ah. Sorry. I was... Thinking..." Danny muttered, Dante just nodded and pressed foreheads with Danny before ruffling his already Messy Hair. "It'll be okay little king twerp." Dante reassured him like an older brother, Danny still found it odd but him and Dante bonded over the fact that they both have dead sisters.

"As I was saying... Danny, have you got everything packed?" Vlad finally spoke up, "Ofcourse Fruit loops, always a few steps ahead yk." Danny chuckled trying to ease his mood.

"How bout saying goodbye to your friends? Keeping in touch? Do you have everything you need to keep in contact with us and them?" Vlad asked again this time with a more concerned tone.

"Ofcourse. We had... Well... We cried a lot yesterday night because they know I'm leaving." He reassured Vlad. "I'll be fine... I promised didn't i?" Danny just smiled

Maybe one day he'll also see Vlad as a finally redeemed individual. Maybe a parental Figure as well, just like the way Jazz did.Yeah maybe one day... One day.

...

"I miss her." Danny mutters under his breathe.

I'm so TIREEED GHRAAAAH notes app said this was TOO LONG, THIS IS FAR FROM "LONG" THIS IS SHORT.

@kokoroluna AS PROMISED. A TAG.

SAME WITH @ghostlyglimmer

[heavenlyraindrops]

Fantasy World Building: Species/ Countries,Nations, Tribes

I said in my world building checklist post I would make a separate post for this so here u go besties 😄👊

things to consider when writing a fantasy book with different species and nationalities in it ‼️

Appearance

What defines their species looks wise?

features such as nose shape, hair texture (if they even have hair), skin tones should be considered

what environment/ climate/ habitat they come from will affect their physical traits

which features are more common in them?

maybe species A are known for having super pale skin and really long, pale-almost-translucent-hair- while species B are known for tanned skin, pale slitted eyes and wild curly hair

what about other FANTASY physical features such as

wings, webbed feet and hands, slitted eyes, pointed ears, tails, clawed fingers

differenr types of THOSE features

As in different types of wings, different shapes of pointy ears, different types of tails blah blah blah

differences between their features in diff stages of life

differences between the genders

also sizes, average heights and all that jazz

Abilities

Physical and magical

lets start with physical

maybe species A are known for being quick and agile

and species B are slow and lumbering

maybe species A are super flexible

and species B are very strong

consider these points:

agility

strength

intelligence

their physical traits as well, such as allergies, resistance to certain things ect.

like how maybe some species are allergic to a certain metal

maybe some are resistant to certain diseases

maybe some don’t burn and are resistant to heat

alr now magical!

do these species have magic at all?

if so, what kind of magic? (Gonna make a separate post for magic)

is this magic woven into their physical being?

are they born with it?

Or do they learn it?

does it come to them naturally? Or do they use incantations, books, artifacts, ect? (Again, separate post for this shit)

is there certain magic they can’t do?)

Culture

Traditions

superstitions

festivals

religion

clothing styles

architecture

famous figures in their community

mythology

places of importance to them, religious or in other ways idk, for example we have Makkah for Islam

accessories

things they believe to be sacred

prejudiced beliefs

Reputation / other stuff idk

Stereotypes

are they persecuted in certain countries?

other rival religions, countries or nations

who are they looked down upon by?

what are they known for?

e.g., being kind, being bloodthirsty, being miserly, being isolated/ secretive/ elusive

how are they treated? Are they seen as a superior species/race?

Do they mix with other races when it comes to marraige, relationships, friendships, business? there’s loads more so I might make a part two if people ask me to, hope this helped 👊 😄

[ma1dita]

heavy hitter

part one can be found here!

this was a request, find it here!

words: 3.5k (yall im so sorry)

summary: james potter x beater!reader James might’ve won the game, but he needs to let people know he has the girl too.

warnings: smut. minors DNI. afab!reader, p in v, pwp, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap) locker room sex, creampie, oral (m!receiving) reader is a brat… this is nasty don’t look at me (jesus tagging this is crazy)

a/n: …. what plot? i wanted to write angst again but got bored so… *jazz hands* erm…. this is my first smut fic, i’ll go crawl in a hole now

(posted 12/19/23 not edited will return)

—

Hitting the shower was James’ chance of washing his anger away before seeing you again tonight. He always gave quidditch his 110% percent, but something animalistic rose out of him when he saw you get manhandled by Wilkins, his team keeper. And regardless of the Gryffindor win, he was planning to chew off his ear later, whether it be with extra laps at the next practice or a good ol’ fashioned wallop to the head. But this anger wasn’t due to a foul play, not even because you got hurt (your arm was clearly fine since you used it to swing your bat at Wilkins’ head after). What got James mad was the fact you ripped your jersey.

No, actually, it was definitely because of what happened after that.

He’s not the type of boyfriend to decline you showing a little extra skin, but any fantasy that entered his mind was quickly cleared away when he saw you re-emerge from the locker rooms wearing your teammate’s jersey. McGonagall said it would be the only way to let you play the rest of the game since there’s no magic allowed on the field, but ever the rulebreaker, James thought that was absolute bullshit.

He rinses the shampoo out of his mop of curls as he thinks about that tosser whose name he can’t even remember. The guy was way too eager to give you his jersey, flirting with you at practices and just not taking a hint. Everyone knew you’d been dating him for a while now, and of course, James knows you can handle yourself, but there are just some things he can’t let slide. Namely, assholes that can’t take a hint. Also, he was a benchwarmer at most. Cocky motherfucker.

Watching you fly around with some other guy’s last name on your back did terrible things to James’ ego. The blur of suds pool at his feet, circling down the drain as he takes a deep breath. He’s got it bad for you, but luckily you like him enough to call him yours.

The Gryffindor locker room was empty by now with everyone too eager to celebrate their win. It was his last year as team captain and at Hogwarts in general, so he should be right up there drinking with all of them, but James really needed to let off some steam.

“Babe?” Your voice calls from the doorway, echoing against the empty walls. Condensation drips off the door handle as you take a peek to see the one shower going in the corner. What was taking him so long? You saw the rest of the team leave without him and they were trying to drag you to celebrate with them, but with your boyfriend still drowning himself in the stall….

“Over here love,” he calls out, hearing your sandals clomp against the wet tile as you turn the corner.

“You almost done? We have a party to get to, Jamie.”

The falling water makes it a bit hard to hear you, so he pops his head out from behind the curtain and squints at your frame. You giggle and pull his chin closer for a few quick kisses.

“Is that your jersey?”

His lips feel so soft against yours as you get distracted, slipping your tongue into his mouth instead of giving him a proper answer. Godric you’re good at that. James’ wet hand quickly pushes the curtain open grabbing at your ass and tucking you against his naked body, soaking the front of you in the process. A muffled yelp escapes you as your body adjusts to the temperature and the feeling of his semi-hard dick against your front.

“No, coach still has mine and I have to return this to Steven after.” You say calmly, smiling against his cheek as he sucks at your neck. He would’ve enjoyed getting lost in the scent of your still-damp hair, but your statement makes him stop as he bites at your pulse point. A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing whatshisname’s jersey?”

James’s hands trail up your back to feel the embroidered letters against your back, and he swears his eye twitches. The incredulous look on his face makes you hold back your laughter.

“Steven. You know him! Don’t tell me this is a big deal for you, baby. You know I couldn’t magically fix mine during the game…”

Your hands trace down his slippery biceps as he unconsciously ruts against your belly, cock now at full attention from rubbing up against you. Your nipples are pebbled up under the material of the jersey, soaked from your less-than-innocent embrace, and he lifts a hand to brush over them, making you groan.

“Definitely not. I wouldn’t get jealous of a prick like him…” He scoffs, hands going back down to fist the fabric over your hips, “Not a big deal at all.”

“Mhmmm… I’ve got a way to make it up to you, even if it’s not a big deal.” You muse, fingers reaching to tease his swollen head as James exhales harshly.

“I’d hope this is a big deal for you, baby. Would want nothing more,” he breathes, pushing your back against the wall.

“You just want me to say your dick is big.”

The both of you laugh before he tugs the jersey over your head, ripping it in the process.

“James!”

He shrugs, burrowing his head into your breasts and lapping at your right bud. You moan, shoving your shorts down past your ankles before pulling his hair away from your chest.

“Mmmm…fuck, babe. I’m supposed to be congratulating you right now!”

Your hands push at his torso slightly as you fall to your knees, placing yourself onto your sandals. Gentle hands graze his thighs, as he feels your nose bump into his cock. The water hits James’ back perfectly, and the sensation of your hand pumping and sliding along his length makes him almost feral, shutting his eyes in pleasure.

“You played so well today baby… deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Your tongue slips out from behind your lips to lick the underside of his length, holding yourself there as you look up at him to answer. Droplets cascade down his pecs as he breathes heavily at the feeling, precum leaking from his cockhead. James hisses as you tap him against your tongue.

“Fuck, baby. Need your mouth right now.” He can feel you grin against his girth before his cock disappears into your mouth, hot and warm, and his instinct is to grab your hair. Goosebumps rise on the parts of him untouched by the shower. Your throat rumbles with a groan as you let him work himself down into your throat, the resistance waning as your jaw slackens. Cheeks hollowing, your lips retract with a pop.

“Like that, Jamie?” you say, reaching around to massage his balls as your tongue continues to play with the long vein that runs along the surface of his cock. It’s hard to fit all of him in your mouth, fingers barely able to wrap around it, much less the rest of you. His hand massages the part where your mouth hinges open, squeezing your cheeks around him as he fucks into you with a bated sigh.

“You always take me so well, baby. You can handle more, that’s it,” he pants, biting his lip as you concentrate real hard on letting him use you, the corners of your eyes watering. His heart is racing now as his hips piston to the noises that come gurgling from your throat and he almost slips before his reflexes help him catch the back of your head before it bangs into the stall wall. A loud moan sputters from around his cock as your eyes roll back, and the lack of oxygen makes you press your fingernails into his quads harshly.

He pulls out from between your lips, cradling your chin as the both of you catch your breath, coughing a little.

“You okay? Mouth so good I lost my footing.” All you can do is laugh hoarsely as he grins boyishly before you realize he’s not wearing his glasses.

“Can you even see me? S’bit cold down here, Mr. MVP.”

He pulls you up, strong hands lifting you at your armpits until you stand in front of him, reaching over to grab his glasses from the shower shelf. You slide them on as water sprays onto them slightly as he shifts, blinking at you in clearer vision.

“There’s my boy,” you whisper, cupping his jaw and slotting your lips between his once more. You could kiss James forever, all muscles and hard exterior, but everything else, his lips down to his insides feel and go soft for you. He groans lowly and it rumbles between the both of you, before the slick motions against your core remind you of something else that’s really hard right now.

“All for you,” he sighs, hands gripping onto your hips with a force that you think they’ll bruise tomorrow, and you love having physical reminders of him wherever you go. Huh, maybe he is jealous. And if not, he’s possessive. It makes your cunt pulse harder just thinking about it, your arousal helping his head slide nicely against your bundle of nerves and the softness of your stomach.

“I’m yours, you know that right?” Not replying, he instead inhales the sweat from your neck, following it with a dip of his tongue up towards your ear.

“James.”

Your boyfriend scoffs lightly, a small smirk on his face as he pulls your chin up to meet him at eye level. You’re so gorgeous like this, just letting him do what he wants to you. Always so reassuring of his needs. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip before you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around clean skin.

“Just feels like I have to remind you sometimes, pretty girl. Can’t let everyone walk around thinking you’re not mine.”

“I wouldn’t mind a reminder. Some marks would be nice too,” you grin, biting at his lip while your hands stroke him slowly, your own knees buckling in excitement.

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Brat.” James hoists your legs over his hips, slamming your back into the wall as you squeak. Sandwiched between the warmth of his body and the cold of the shower wall, your eyes roll back as he eases his cock between your dripping folds, moans falling from your lips when he sinks into you, inch by inch.

His girth always has a way of stretching you open, and every time feels like the first as he taps at your thigh reminding you to take deep breaths. Fuck the party, you could stay here all night.

“Fill you up so nicely…we’re almost there, good girl.” His voice shakes, wanting to slam the rest of him straight into your cervix.

Your hands are gripping his shoulders until you finally feel him nudge the deepest parts of you, and you sigh when it all fits. Perfect.

“Always so big Jamie. Almost too much.” He kisses your cheek, hips starting to create a rhythm as he mutters into your ear.

“Not too much for my girl. Just perfect. Perfect pussy for this cock. All for you,” he grits, skin sliding and slapping as your thighs get pressed into your chest with the intense force he’s plunging into your guts.

“James, fuck….fuck you’re so deep! Feels so fucking good!” Filthy whimpers leave you and he loves the sound of your desperation when he’s inside of you like this. Too bad there’s no one else here to hear it. If Steven could only see you now.

“Such a good cunt for me to use. Only mine.”

He gasps for air as his feet slip against the tile once more, his heavy breathing fogging up his glasses, and his hold on you just as tight as your grip on his cock. Shit. His heart almost fell through his ass.

Your eyes open to see him struggling and a giggle escapes your mouth as you watch the stupid fucked out look on his face.

“How do people even fuck in the shower? This shit’s dangerous. Don't wanna maim the Gryffindor captain again.”

Your laughter sends jolts down to his throbbing shaft and he shakes his head with a smile, parting the curtain with one hand before carrying you still impaled on him towards the metal benches, placing you down softly.

“At least you finally admit it was your fault, baby. Could barely see straight for a week after.”

He wipes his glasses between his fingers before gazing at you lying across the bench, legs spread and ready for him. What a woman.

“And here I am hoping that when you’re done with me I won’t be able to walk for a week after,” you breathe, hands squeezing your tits as his pupils dilate further at the sight of you. What a fucking witch!

“Fucking hell, you know I love you, right?”

James positions himself over you, kissing your ankle as he sheathes himself back into your sex, resuming his brutal pace and hurtling you quickly towards your peak.

“Y-yes! Merlin, fuck I… looove you!” you wail, hips rolling to meet his and his balls strike your ass hard with each thrust. Your insides are being shifted around with him spearing your cervix like this and there’s nothing in this world that you could name that’s able to compare to how he makes you feel.

Your pussy contracts as he somehow nestles himself deeper, body trembling in this position as he throws your left leg over his shoulder, lips chasing your nipples trying to suck the life out of you, and perhaps that was his plan so you could forget anyone else but him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, James. Don’t you fucking DARE!” you beg, clawing your way down his back, making him nip at you in pleasure as you draw pinpricks of blood.

The tight pressure of release starts creeping at your core, making you squirm under him but he pins your waist down harder to the bench, the metal leaving prints against your flesh. His hands press harder on your stomach, silently encouraging you to cum and you can feel the imprint of his dick bulging from inside your stomach.

“Don’t struggle for me baby, just let it go. I know you wanna cum…. That’s it.” James praises in a shattered breath, watching you writhe underneath him as he holds you close. Your legs are shaking as your vision goes black for a moment, cunt gushing with release and squirt coats his pubic hair as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You lay there, catching your breath as the stars clear from your vision, and you look up at him stroking himself to the sight of you coming undone.

“Sheesh, look at the mess you made. You okay?”

“More than okay, Jamie. Need you to finish the job,” you tease, toes grazing the skin of his hip and he slaps at your thigh with a smile.

“Insatiable minx. Turn around then, ass up f’me.”

You do as he says, getting on all fours and showing him the perfect round of your asscheeks, covered in milky residue from your recent orgasm, but you turn to look at him when he doesn’t come near.

“Babe?”

His locker clinks open as he pulls a fresh jersey out, walking back to you and guiding it over your head and arms as you smile, pecking his cheek. Your silly boy. There was no way you actually thought you hated him this time last year with how sweet he really is. His large hand grazes the embroidered patches now resting on your back, POTTER, in huge white letters, CAPTAIN, now resting at the base of your spine.

James’ eyes drift lower and he hums at the sight of you perched on the bench, dropping his face to your throbbing holes and taking a long swipe with the flat of his tongue as he savors your taste along with the sounds of your whining. From your swollen clit to the ring of your asshole he’s languishing in a flavor that’s so uniquely you, and he pulls back, smacking his lips.

“Scrumptious. How are you hotter with clothes on?” James grins, taking a playful bite of an asscheek before he slaps it lightly and stuffs you deep, without any further hesitation. Your sarcastic reply is lost in a moan that makes your toes curl.

He works you open onto his cock again, your back arching desperately to be as close as possible and his hand presses you down, sliding up your spine until his fingers curl around strands of your hair. Tits swinging until they’re crushed against the bench, your face is smooshed as you mumble pathetically in his grasp.

“What was that baby? Can’t hear you well…” He spits at you, and if anyone could see this they’d know he was enjoying the sight of you at his mercy. He grinds his shaft against your walls, ramming against your g-spot and you drool like a mindless plaything, greedy for his attention.

“Right…right fucking there, ohmygod!” His cock pummels your cunt deliciously, hands spreading your cheeks wide and the stretch is so good, perfectly stroking the need in your belly.

“You’re so needy, pretty girl. You love it like this, huh? Good thing I fuck you so well, right?”

Merlin, this boy can pull orgasms out of you as well as he plays quidditch. He’s the only person in the world you’d gladly submit and be this pathetically cockdrunk for. Good thing he's yours.

“Yes…yes! So good Jamie. No one can fuck me like you….”

The white-hot sensation digs at your insides as his fingers fall to your clit, rubbing at you just the way you like as shockwaves shake every crevice of your being. He's breathing over your neck, hot air puffing and elevating your senses before they shut down completely.

“Yeah? Then come on my cock again right now. Show me you like it that much. Now.”

Your arms give out, falling completely forward as your body jerks in searing pleasure, pussy fluttering around his cock once more, so intensely. Your hands flail behind you until they find his, and he's pulling you up against his hard chest as he bounces you onto his length and chases his high.

“Give it to me, please, please… I can take it!” You’re screaming now, at the intersection between pain and pleasure but wanting to make sure you can milk him for his efforts. James’ thrusts stagger as he leans his head on your shoulder, biting you as he cums hard.

“I know you can, baby. All yours…” he chokes out.

Thick white ropes coat your insides, wrapping you tight around him like a present until the excess seeps out to the base of his cock. You kiss his temple as James starts to regulate his breathing.

“Fuck. Fuck….” you drag out, the two of you more winded than you were playing the damn game.

“I still have to return Steven’s jersey,” you mumble, and James can’t do anything but smirk at the thought of the clueless boy standing outside your House's locker room while he fucked you senseless a few doors over. What a shame.

—

The two of you walk hand in hand into the Gryffindor common room to a crowd of students cheering for James. The party is well underway and many hands clap his now injured back, to which his grimaces make you bite back a laugh. Speaking of bites….

Sirius walks up to you with two cups of punch, wide grey eyes zeroed in on you wearing James’s jersey and the glaring red marks of your boyfriend’s teeth on your neck.

“Merlin. I thought you two would take time to celebrate on your own but did you fucking attack her?”

You both take the cups out of his hands, searing blushes on your faces and leave Sirius to his own imagination before James whispers in your ear that he’ll be gone for a moment.

“Okay, but hurry back, baby.”

A peck on the lips sends him on his way to walk straight towards that wanker–er, Steven with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Potter! Have you seen–” the dumb boy says eagerly, before James cuts in, “Yeah, my girlfriend couldn’t meet you earlier, sorry mate.”

His hand digs into the undetectable extension charm in his knapsack, pulling out a soggy, ripped jersey.

“We were kind of busy, but you know how to fix that don’t you? You’ll need it to keep you warm on the bench for the rest of the season after all.”

It plops sadly onto the floor in front of the guy, and James looks at him, hazel eyes conveying what he knows he doesn’t have to remind him anymore.

“Thanks again! Appreciate you looking out for my girl.”

He walks away from Steven, who’s sputtering sad excuses and your eyes meet his as James finds you near the drinks table.

“What did you do?” You say with a lifted brow.

“Nothing, pretty girl. Just making known what’s mine.”

—

"you are pressing against me

like i press flowers

against the pages in my book.

you are kissing my neck

and it feels like the start of forever.

i want to touch you until my palms burn."

-amirae garcia

taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue

[strqwberryfield]

jongseong park - cuddles in the sun

context: y/n invites jay over to her home whilst her family were out.

contains fluffy fluff (i had a dream about this last night and its stuck in my brain) and food.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

you know the feeling of being home alone. the events that take place like eating all the food in the house, blasting out songs and pretending you're a singer performing on your world tour, talking to yourself like you would do on a talk show after you become famous and then the final stage. loneliness. y/n went through those stages in a space of an hour so now she found her current situation rather uncomfortable, considering that she has been through this situation numerous times.

after around 5 or so minutes, she messaged her boyfriend, jay.

| y/n: bae hii :))))

| jay: hi lovely, is there anything wrong?

| y/n: im home alone rn and im lonely :(

| y/n: do you wanna perhaps come over!?!, i miss u ^ ^

| jay: how could i say no to you, ill be over in 10. i love you <3

| y/n: i love you too!! stay safe and see you soon :)

jay took longer than 10 minutes, he stopped by a store to pick up some essential stuff like your favourite food and snacks to accommodate the cuddling session that is yet to happen.

knock knock knock. that was jay. you knew it was him since he had a unique style of knocking. it was kind of like a secret code.

y/n unlocks the door and he walks in, kissing the top of her head and pulled her into a hug. swaying side to side, one hand softly patting the back of her head and the other arm around her waist. the smell of peonies and linen cologne that he owned filled her senses.

"hi" he whispered. pecking her head yet again. "hey" she replies. she was so drunk in love with him that her friends were tired of her constantly talking about him. she led him to the living room so they could relax and talk to each other as jay had a jam-packed schedule due to the upcoming comeback that was going to happen that month.

the sun was setting. it was a beautiful sight. it was also so warm because the log fire was on along with the sun cascading down through the windows. jay set out all the snacks on the table beside the couch and got himself comfortable. he opened up his arms as he slowly went to lie down. "come here" he said softly, with a cute smile on his face. y/n clambered over to lay on top of him to lay her head in the crook of his neck.

"i was about to have a nap in the dorm, you sent that message at the right time" he mumbled, with the same smile on his face. his eyes were filled with love and adoration for the girl that was in his arms. soft jazz played on the speakers as the young couple had a small catch-up on what had happened over the past week when they were apart.

sleep was catching up to the boy so he got the fluffy blanket that was rested to the right of him to put on him and his girl (who was asleep). he kissed and whispered one last "i love you" before sleep overcame him.

₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: im so touch-starved wtf.

[shypen]

ㅤ — ༿ີ۪۪  ͏ ͏ r3al!ty ㅤ ⠀⠀𓋜‎ 𝒫JS

𝓈ynopsis . you love playing games, he loves playing games, its perfect right? but what’ll happen when jay’s intense game addiction gets in the way of your relationship? the irritating sound of clicking buttons on the controllers. its basically all you and jay ever did, play play and play. trying to spend quality time with him in any other way is almost impossible, its ruining your relationship. so much so you have to help him with his hallucinations, eventually getting so bad he has a difficult time differentiating between game and r3al!ty. ✧‎ ‎ ㅤ𝑔enre . angst , fluff , comedy (i tried) , enemies to lovers 3.6k

a.n :: for kam ara rain jazz and lissie (are you happy now.)

𝓅airings . gamer!jay x gamer!reader 𝓌arnings . bl00d (sorree!!) , st@bbing , g4ns , ++

req status :: taking requests ^-^

reminder . everything here is FICTIONAL, meaning NOTHING HERE IS REAL! these things never happened. if u dont like my work dont read it pls and ty !

© shypen 2024. do not copy, plagiarize or repost.

“on your left—” heeseung yells, the clicking of you and his controllers filling the room. multiple ‘pew’ noises come out of the tv’s speakers. ‘game over’ text appears on the tv on your side. “you didnt warn me early enough,” you speak through gritted teeth, turning toward your brother. "you looked too late," heeseung fights back, making direct eye contact with you. you groan in frustration. "whatever. another game?" you ask, getting ready to click on the 'play again?' option. he shakes his head, getting up from the floor. "it's late, ill go sleep," he yawns, stretching. you chuckle and nod, waving goodbye to him as he exits your room.

you, however, are not tired in the slightest. you were determined to atleast get one win that night, even if you hear birds outside. you start up a new game, readjusting your headphones. you clutch the controller in your hand as the game starts to countdown. immediately as the 'go' text appears you start to gain power ups for future enemies. as you were about to grab another power up, your screen color turns gray, on the side some red text. "jongpro0313 has killed you. respawn?" you shrugged it off. "no big deal," you told yourself, respawning. you won't shrug it off anymore. every. single. time. each round he kills you atleast 50 or more times, the same 'jongpro0313' person. your knuckles turn white from gripping the controller each time you see the same exact game over screen. no matter how much you try to kill him back it's no use. is he using aimbot or something? why is he targetting me?

"1 unread message - new chat. open?"

you click the accept button. "jongpro0313: lol u kinda suck ngll soz the final straw. "ynnetta180: what did i do dude" "jongpro0313: just playing the game sweetheart ;)" you scoff at the message. you spot him afk in a hiding spot and you chuckle, aiming at him and finally killing him, making him lose his streak. grabbing his loot, another game over screen appears. "jongpro0313 has killing you. respawn?" "jongpro0313: could only kill me once i was afk. how cute" that made your blood boil. "jongpro0313 has sent you a friend request. accept or decline." is that man crazy? decline, of course.. "accepted." oh youve gotta be joking me. "jongpro0313: accepted my friend request? what, are you expecting some aiming lessons, darling? lolll ur funny" "ynnetta180 has left the game." fighting the strong urge to bash your head against a wall and throwing your controller, you take deep breaths before climbing onto your bed, grabbing your phone and checking the time. "4:27 AM" you're used to it by now. placing your headset and phone on your nightstand, your eyelids start to get heavy, automatically closing, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. if only that was the case. you tossed and turned all night, doubting your skills as you get flashbacks about the countless times youve gotten endlessly killed by one. person. you snatch your phone, logging into your account and searching the exact username targeting you all night. (technically day). "search: jongpro0313" "bio: name: jay / jongseong seattle area im too goated" you scroll down to view all of the achievements he obtained the whole time he's been playing, and goodness, he is goated. you gulp as your scroll through all of his whopping 7,581 badges. you click off his profile.

the agitating melody of chirping birds can be heard through your window, giving you a migraine. you jump once you hear your brother's alarm originally set for 7:00 am. you groan, clearing your throat. "HEESEUNG WAKE UP," you yell, banging on your bedroom wall so he hears you. "IF YOU BREAK THE WALL I'M NOT PAYING," he yells back, immediately hearing a loud thud after. out of concern, you sprint to his room, opening the door and seeing your brother laying on the floor, drool coming out from the corner of his mouth and his hair overly messy. "you seriously fell from the-" you get interrupted by the sound of his loud snoring, honestly impressed by how fast he falls asleep. unless he's unconscious. you walk over to him and crouch down, tugging on his arm. "gross, you're drooling. get up."

heeseung groans, fluttering his eyes open. "fine, i'll make your breakfast in a sec.." you squeal a quick, "thanks, hee!" dropping his arm and skipping happily back to your room, shutting the door. "you're seriously not gonna help me off the floor, y/n.."

your eyes lighten up seeing the smoothie bowls heeseung lays on the table, snatching them almost immediately. "thank you, heeseung!!" you exclaim. he mumbles out weak a 'welcome,' sitting next to you. about to take a bite, your phone starts to buzz. not just buzz, but blow up. so much so that you're surprised your phone isnt overheating. "messages kamryujin poo!! GIRLL CHECK TWITTER RIGHT. NOW."

"messages jazztomatoes <3 HAVE YOU HEARD?" "messages ara ara ara ^-^ DID YOU CHECK TWITTER TODAY?" "messages rainy rain reyna ( = . = ) ARE YOU COMING TO THE COMPETITION TOO??" competition?

your search history is now filled with every detail about the competition, your eyes glued to your phone even as you place your bowl in the sink. "aren't you gonna wash your dis- oh, okay i guess ill do all the work," heeseung glares at your as you walk to your room, not even glancing at where you’re looking.

“upcoming call from: ara ara ara ^-^”

accept.

“your coming, right?” your friend ara exclaims. “waitwaitwait how does it work though?” you scratch your head. “ummm basically players come together and randomly partner people up, competing til the best players go one on one im pretty sure..” she mutters. you nod and smile. “sure. ill go. do you know how to participate for it?”

“yeah, of course, the thirdwheel gc is coming too,” ara giggles. “wait, rain, kam, jazz, and you??” “yupp. if we have to go against each other i’ll cry but the chances of us being partnered up is low depending on the people participating.”

“aaah got it. ill sign up for it! byeee,” you both say your goodbyes. you turn your phone on again, the time reading “7:53 am Saturday”

you twist your doorknob open to talk to heeseung, aggressively swinging his door open. you find him in the bathroom, warming up the water for a shower. “what do you want..” he groans, still grumpy from the dishes incident. “do you think you could drive me here on wednesday?” you show him the map on your phone leading to the competition. “you can drive yourself, just borrow my car,” heeseung sighs, beginning to take off his shirt. your hands immediately fly up to hover over your eyes. “not in front of me you weirdo,” you say, turning back and running out of his room, hearing his menacing laugh fading away as you do.

_________________________________________________________

“let me check you,” the security guard says, an australian accent pooling out. scanning you for any dangerous items for confirmation before handing you a participants pass. “enter,” he mumbles, and you smile. before you enter the building, you catch a glimpse of his nametag: “sim jaeyun.”

the inside is spacious, tons of people crowding certain booths, etc, the booths there to keep people entertained as they wait for the competition to start. let’s just say your car broke down as you were driving, sooo you were a teensyy bit late. but you arrived just in time for the competition to begin.

they seat you down next to a randomized partner, a big projector screen in front of both of you. its usage? to display the game as you both play. you both are given controllers, immediately beginning the game which completely catches you off guard. looks like your partner is even more caught off guard, the ‘game over’ screen showing on their side.

it continues on like this, a few tough opponents but you make it through a lot of the rounds. you’re now given a brief intermission, some time to get water or practice even more. you decide on water, after all, you’ve beaten every opponent already, right?

“last players y/n and jay go up!” you hear someone say from a megaphone. it blares in your ears, you flinch slightly and immediately start to run back to the chairs. you take a seat, your opponent already next to you. “last round. users?”

you try to keep your composure when you hear “last round.” last round? as in you and the boy next to you are finalists?

“hey,” your opponent nudges your shoulder. “he asked for your username, doll.”

“o-oh, sorry. ynnetta180,” you stutter out, from the corner of your eye you spot your opponent smiling to himself. the staff press the start option, counting you both down. almost automatically, you start to rapidly press and click buttons, trying your best to shoot your opponent. until something caught your eye.

“nametag: jongpro0313”

oh you’ve gotta be kidding me

he’s obviously gonna win, right?

“hey— what are you doing..” you stop pressing buttons to turn your head at him. he leans on his chair, hands behind his head. “you can only kill me when i’m afk, right? go on,” he insists. you roll your eyes as you kill him in game, eyes not leaving his. he gets up from the chair as you follow. “good job,” he extends his hand toward you. you nod and grab his hand, shaking. "we've met before, haven't we?" "yeah, you gave me free kills yesterday," he chuckles. you and his hands are still intertwined, he uses it to walk away from the competition site with you, after all, crowds are too overwhelming. plus, the prize is automatically mailed, you aren't required to stay around for long.

"why'd you just let me win like that.." you ask him and he turns his head to you. "i've won for last years competition, i felt like there was no need in winning it two years in a row so i wanted to give a chance to my opponent, didn't know you'd be the opponent though," he scoffs playfully. "jay," he stops walking, letting go of your hand. you smile at him. "y/n. you live by here?" "yeah, over at xxxx xxxx street, visit me sometime," he replies, hands in his pockets as he walks away to one of the booths in the building. you brush it off and walk back home. once again you hope that was the case. you collapse onto your bed and start to kick your feet, grabbing a pillow beside you to scream in. heeseung walks in your room, a concerned expression on his face. "GET OUTTTUH," you whine, throwing the pillow that you just screamed in at him. "GOODNESS FINE... whats your deal today, gee.." he closes your door and you immediately grab your pillow back, screaming muffled by it. theres no denying he was HANDSOME, no questions there. not only is he hot, his voice also sent chills down your spine. of course you wouldn't tell heeseung that, he hates you talking to boys.

"1 new unread message from jongpro0313. open?" your eye widen as you stare at your phone screen from across the room, immediately tossing the poor pillow on the floor for the second time, bolting to your phone. you type your password in and open the message. of course, you forgot you accepted his friend request. jongpro0313 "hey, did you get home safe?" ynnetta180 "yess thanks for asking, you?" jongpro0313 "yeah" jongpro0313 "xxx-xxx-xxxx" ynnetta180 "whats that for" jongpro0313 "my number sweetheart" it takes every power of your being to not scream at the top of your lungs right now. its like your hands move by themselves, copy and pasting the number jay gave. you grab another pillow from your bed and clutch it tight, texting him a 'hey.' you two talked all night, even playing a few games on call too. jay and you ended the night with "ill teach you how i play tomorrow okay? visit me," "okay. goodnight jay!" and so you did, the next thing you know you're knocking on his door with 3 bags of chips in your hands. he opens the door with a toothbrush in his mouth, hair all over the place, and tired eyes. "i told you to visit me but not visit me this early.." he's muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. he's right. it was 6 am. "deal with it," you giggle, making your way in his house. you set the snacks down on his kitchen counter. "whatever, i'll just brush my teeth again.." jay walks back to his bathroom.

you open up his fridge to see if he has some soda, and thankfully he does. you grab the cans and set it on the counter along with the bags. you rip open one of the bags and take a bite of a chip, justtt a little bit while you wait for jay. fortunately, you arrived and knocked on his door midway through him brushing his teeth, so he emerges out of the bathroom pretty quickly. “cmon, ill teach you how to play,” he smiles, heading to the couch. this is the first time you get a good glimpse of his side profile, his jaw is so sharp its identical to a knife. you walk over to the couch, plopping on it. “i know how to play, its just.. you aim like a bot.”

“is that an insult or a compliment,” he chuckles, grabbing two controllers, tossing one to you. “half and half, and thanks,” you hold back your smile as he starts up the game.

the presses a button causing the round to immediately start, and you freeze in surprise before actually moving around.

during the match, you two help each other. jay’s “on your left,”’s and “on your right,”’s help a lot. during intermission, his warm hands take hold of yours, guiding you and teaching you where to aim your crosshair.

you couldn’t lie to yourself no matter what you did, but you felt some butterflies floating around in your stomach whenever his hands held yours. you two ended the night with a wave goodbye, and you walk back to your house. loud buzzer sound. you ended up staying up with jay til 3:42 am. figuring its too late to drive back to your place, he offers a sleepover. you reluctantly accept, which leads to you waking up in his arms. a red hue flushes your cheeks, trying to pry his hands off but he's sound asleep. you end up waiting 'til he wakes up. you get home later that day with jay walking you, but that ends up not going so well once you see your brother's aggravated face. "where have you been, your breakfast is cold," he says sternly. "i was out, calm down.." you reply, setting your jacket on the coat rack. "yeah, out with a boy. who is he?" "heeseung literally calm down its just a friend i made at the competition," you sigh, kneeling down to take your shoes off. "i'll see about that," heeseung walks to the front door, opening it to find jay, but all he sees is jay waving bye to him and driving off with a cheeky smile, and heeseungs eyebrows furrow. "is he atleast good to you.." he shuts the front door. you take off your shoes, nodding. "yeah, he is." "I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HIM," he points at you, wide bambi eyed. "NO IM NOT LEAVE ME ALONE," you fight the urge to throw your shoe at him. "yeah yeah sure whatever you say," he crosses his arms, watching you run to your room. from that day you and jay start to talk and hangout a lot more, something you never thought you would do back when he kept killing you. the day that him and heeseung met was.. interesting to say the least but hey, heeseung approved of him! (barely)

you and jay are dating now. everythings perfect. atleast it was.

of course you two are game addicts, right? but thats the one thing thats ruining your relationship.

“jay, spend some time with me,” you place a hand on his arm, only for him to pull away, eyes glued to the screen. “one more round,” he always says, it’s so frustrating, and yet you always deal with it. you love him too much to lose him, but you feel as if your insignificant. you two barely hang out anymore because of how much he plays video games, you’d say it’s cause he likes video games too much, but deep down, you don’t think thats the case. this is a severe addiction.

it’s to the point where he basically never goes outside, you have to go out and grab him groceries and run errands for him.

it’s time to have a talk. "jay.. honeyyy... can we talk for a bit?" you approach the couch, tapping on your boyfriend's shoulder. "hm," he nods his head, not even making eye contact with you. agitated, you grab his controller and hit pause on his gamematch. he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. "what was that for?" "we need to have a talk. like right now," you sit down next to him. "can it wait? cmonn, i brought new gear."

as much as your tempted to play with him, you stop yourself, reminding your mind about your goal. "can we go out together, jay? it's been so long.." you sigh, tugging on his hand gently. "honey, you know i dont like-" "pleasee" you tug on his arm harder, and surprisingly, he finally gives in. that was all in your head. you give in and he hands you new controllers, and you grab his extra set of headphones. "1 round only, okay? then we'll have that talk," you blurt, eyes staring intently at the tv screen. "yeah, yeah.. start it up," jay replies and you click the start button. it's perfect—it feels like when you two first met, playing at his house. the game not only has guns, but also recently added knives. it's been so long since you played, maybe about a month. the new feature shocks you, and each intermission after every round you buy new knife crates to unlock new knives. thankfully, you still have your skills despite the lack of playing, and it feels like you time travelled. it's been a year since you and jay have started dating, and you eventually got tired of staring at the screen all day, which is how you two have grown distant. this round, the theme are teams. the blue and red team, you and jay are unfortunately in separate teams, but you guys promise to avoid each other at all costs, killing all of your teammates and his instead. jay however, had different plans. he plans on pranking you, harmlessly killing you once so you lose your streak. on the left? no.. on the right? no sight of you either. he has an xray ability. he uses it to locate you and you're hiding behind a wall, using a glitch you found within the map not so long ago. unfortunately for you, jay realizes what you did. he sneaks up from behind, the animation of being stabbed playing on your screen. jay laughs, on the side noticing a "friend kill" text appearing on screen. "that was funny," he chuckles, expecting to get a reply only to be met with silence. "right, y/n?" "y/n?" "y/n..?" sirens.

everything flashes. the atmosphere is dark, overwhelming, overly foggy and cloudy, the high humidity adding to the discomfort. the darkness and fog contributing to a sense of claustrophobia. jay’s head is swirling with questions, the pitter patter of rain hitting the hard cement interrupting his thoughts. everythings dark, but the dim light from a neon sign of a building nearby illuminates the alleyway, including his knife he left in your stomach, the concrete below you stained with blood. red and blue hues approach behind jay, only noticing it when he gains his composure and realizing what's going on. that the gaming match you two just played wasn't a game. the blaring sirens behind jay didn't matter to him as he drops to his knees at the sight of you. everything felt empty. it was just a game it was just a game it was a harmless prank it was a harmless prank its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault but is it his fault. screaming shouting and resisting when he feels the handcuffs wrap around his wrists, yelling his sorries and and desperation as he sees the life leave your precious eyes he always used to adore. apparently he didnt adore enough of it as he won't even see that same life in your eyes again.

taglist:: @kwanholic @quhrtz @jenos-eye-smiles @hmusunoo (HAPPY BIRTHDAY) @st1llm0nster @hursheys @lonelybutterflytae @vveebee @taehyunsthings @kim2005bomi @engentiny